


Homework Verse: Delete This

by nyxocity



Series: Homework Verse [3]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-18
Updated: 2012-05-18
Packaged: 2017-11-05 13:53:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/407186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyxocity/pseuds/nyxocity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during part 3 of the original story on the infamous day of texting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homework Verse: Delete This

Jensen's been hard off and on all day. He's not used to it. This doesn't normally happen to him. But today is far from normal.

He's been fighting urges off for years; just because they don't own him doesn't mean they don't exist. It's what you do about them that's important. And Jensen has spent most of the day ignoring them.

Seventh period, now, and Jensen's wondering if Jared did what Jensen told him to do.

Jared's hair is wet when he walks into the classroom, and the sight hits Jensen like an electric shock. That means Jared stayed extra long in the shower, took his time fingering himself. 

He forces himself to focus on what Sarah is saying to him.

When she sits down, it's time to get to work. Reviews; Jensen usually hates them. But today, he's got some special pieces prepared just for the occasion.

"A spontaneous process," Jensen writes the term on the chalkboard. "Is a chemical reaction in which a system releases free energy--most often as heat--and moves to a lower, more thermodynamically stable, energy state." He pauses and turns to the class.

No. He can't say he didn't plan this. Jared "likes him", "wants to see him". Jensen's dead curious to see how far Jared will go. 

Jensen finishes the review and passes out the quizzes. He sits down for a few minutes, arranging things on his desk—just long enough to let everyone settle into the scratchy rhythm of pen on paper--and then he leaves. He walks to the men's room, shuts the stall door behind him. It's quiet here, soothingly empty, nothing to distract him. He's had these messages planned since last night and he can feel a prickling like anticipation under his skin. He types in the first message and hits send.

_when i walk back into the room, put your other hand under your jacket and palm your cock through your pants until i tell you otherwise. be silent while you do it. –delete this_

It's a moment before he can type in the second message, and he leaves it on the screen, cursor blinking at him as he reads the tiny, blocky letters.

Jensen's pretty sure Jared won't do it. This will be the breaking point for Jared, and Jensen won't blame him. Jensen runs his finger over the send key, curls his tongue inside his mouth. But if Jared _does_ do it… 

The key is smooth under his fingertip, his thoughts decidedly less so.

He slides the phone into his pocket, careful to keep from touching himself. His cock is twitching again, and he has to take a few breaths, count backwards from ten before he can open the door and walk out.

Jensen meets Jared's eyes as he enters the classroom, gauging Jared's reaction. Jared looks shocked, pale, two bright spots of color high on his cheeks. Jensen can't believe Jared hasn't broken yet. 

Jensen doesn't bother watching; this is just the warm-up act.

He sits down, waits for a full minute. When he glances up, he sees Jared's pleading eyes, begging Jensen to let him stop. But for once, Jensen's got a lesson that doesn't include 'stopping'. He reaches down, pushes the button on his phone.

_make yourself come. now._

He sits back in his chair, watching intently. It would be easy to tell Jared to stop, now. It wouldn't take much self-control for Jared to do that—it would almost be self-preservation. It will take more control for Jared to do _this_ ; to come in class with all his peers around him and do it silently after waiting for so long. 

Jensen sees Jared's face tighten, white teeth turning the tip of his finger bright red with compressed blood. Jared's pupils are huge, staring right back at Jensen, empty except for hunger. All the other heads in the class are bent over their papers, Jared's face winding tighter, lips parted around his finger. Jensen's the only one who knows what Jared's doing, the only one watching. 

Jared's face turns bright red, veins standing out in his neck like cords, eyes closed, half his fist shoved inside his mouth, and Jesus _Christ_ , is he really…?

Jensen watches, and it seems like Jared goes on forever, breath held locked in his throat, pink lips shiny against the skin of his hand. Beads of sweat on his brow, straining, and Christ, it must be so intense. But he takes it, every bit of it, and he doesn't make a sound. Jared's followed every single order Jensen gave him.

Jensen can't fucking believe it. 

His cock is hard, throbbing against his thigh, and he doesn't try to stop it this time.

Jared's hand slips from his mouth, and Jensen watches him try to breathe in silently. Jared looks wrecked; hair dripping with sweat and water, face flushed pink, eyes bright. Wrecked and amazingly fucking hot. Jensen's fingers twitch against the desk, and he bites down on the inside of his jaw, pushes back the sudden urge to touch that skin, lick the salty sweat from it, slide his hand down Jared's pants and play with the slickness all over his cock.

Jared doesn't look at him, cheeks still flushed bright pink as he picks up his pen and begins to write. Jensen would almost bet money that Jared's going to pass the written test, too.

Jensen's starting to think maybe Jared doesn't _have_ limits. The way Jared takes it, lets Jensen touch him, lets him do whatever he wants to that tight, hot body. Jared takes it like he's eating it up and begs Jensen for more. And then… there's the way he came to Jensen's house and kissed Jensen, slow and sweet, deep and reverent, like Jensen mattered.

Jensen realizes he's still staring when Jared sets his pen down, and he snaps his eyes front and center. He shuffles a stack of papers, reorganizing them, setting the right and bottom edges in perfect alignment with the corner of the desk.

All he can see is Jared's arm lying across them; body sprawled on the desk, naked and waiting.

  
  



End file.
